


The Promise of Something New

by geeky_ramblings



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, F/F, First Time, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 22:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeky_ramblings/pseuds/geeky_ramblings
Summary: A telegram changes the course of Sarah Roger's life forever.





	The Promise of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [raving_liberal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal) for looking over this story for me and encouraging me to try out a new fandom.

Their wedding had been a rushed affair. A couple of words said by a priest in the dead of night before going to a hotel not too far from the church. The next day, Joseph Rogers was shipped off to Europe, leaving Sarah Rogers alone in their shabby apartment in Brooklyn that the couple could barely afford. While the 107th Infantry Regiment fought, Sarah tried to stretch the money she received from the stipend that Joseph got from serving in the military and the wages she received as a nurse on the tuberculosis ward of the hospital.

With the country asking its citizens to reduce their consumption of things like meat and vegetables, Sarah did what she could to stretch her meals. When the pin money she saved for the week was gone, she would often go a day without a meal. There would be days that she would work endlessly without any sustenance until one day it become too much for her. Sarah had been working for five hours straight when she suddenly began to feel faint.

She had been checking Mr. Feinstein’s pulse when the room started swimming around her. The walls seemed to close in when finally, her head met the hard floor of the hospital. When Sarah came to, Dr. Connor was listening to her heart, a worried frown on his face. Taking in the ashen tint to her complexion, he asked, “When was the last time you’ve had a meal?”

“Yesterday morning,” she replied.

“I know that times are tough, but you have to eat, especially with a babe on the way. Its heartbeat is strong, but I have to advise you to take it easy and not ration your food so harshly.”

“Are you sure I’m pregnant?”

“Quite sure. I heard a second heart with my stethoscope.”

“I’m sorry. I was wasn’t really expecting to be pregnant, sir,” Sarah said.

“I seem to remember being at your wedding,”  the doctor said with a smile.

“My husband was shipped off to Europe after our wedding day. We were going to try when he got back, but this comes as a bit of a surprise.  I promise that I will take be care of myself. Thank you, doctor.”

“I wanted to see you again in a couple of weeks.  Just to see how you are doing.”

“I will see then,” she said, as he got up to leave.

Once he was gone, tears began fall down her cheeks as her hands went down towards her stomach. Before they were married, Sarah and Joseph talked about having a family of their own. They had wanted five children at least and a plot of land they could have crops, cows, and a couple of goats. This, however, was before the war broke out. Now, she was pregnant with her husband overseas, fighting in a war that never seemed like it was going to end. Any day, Sarah could receive a telegram telling her that Joseph was either dead or missing, and now she was having a child that he might never see.

Part of her of was happy to have this little piece of her husband, but doubts plagued her mind. She didn't know if she could do this. How was Sarah suppose to do this with Joseph gone and only on a meager income? As she thought about a child with long blond curls or a face just like Joseph’s, Sarah wiped her tears away. She had always wanted to be a mother, and no matter the adversities, Sarah could do this with or without Joseph. What mattered now was the baby she was carrying, and that meant she had to start taking care of herself.

Unable to work on the ward while pregnant, Sarah found other ways to earn money. Most of their income came from Joseph’s new stipend as he rose through the ranks to sergeant. What she couldn't afford with that, she earned mending shirts and dresses. It was enough to keep the apartment and eat three square meals a day. Some provision that were too expensive for her purse, but they were things Sarah could do without. She could only hope that the war would end soon, and her husband would return safely to her.

As the battle raged on in Europe, Sarah received correspondence from Joseph every week, but as the months passed the letters stopped coming. Worried, she spent each night saying a rosary for the easy delivery of their child and the safety of her husband. Sometimes she could make it to confession or church, but she had to believe that Joseph would be alright — he had to be. Sarah continued to have hope until she heard a knock at her door. She stood there in the kitchen frozen as dread filled her heart.

The visitor could be anyone, but intuition told her that it was a soldier with news about her husband. She just knew that her beloved Joseph would not be coming back to them — little Steve or Rebecca would never get to met their father. Hesitantly, Sarah walked to the door. With a shaking hand she opened it and saw a young man dressed in full uniform.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said, handing her a yellowed telegram.

Thanking him, she took it and locked the door behind her. Sitting down on the couch, Sarah ripped the envelope open and began to read. Joseph had been on the front line when the Germans attacked his unit and several others with mustard gas. After only a day, Joseph began experiencing the intense itching and skin irritation that was the side effect of the gas.  The pain had been bearable until his lungs started to deteriorate. He had breathed in too much mustard gas, causing pulmonary edema. Too much fluid in his lung caused him to gasp for breath. Within a week he was gone. In the last letter Sarah had written him, she had told Joseph about the baby. Instead of holding their son or daughter in his arms, Joseph had died — never to see his child grow up. All her hopes and dreams had disappeared with one small piece of paper.

In the coming days, Sarah attended her husband’s funeral. After the soldiers handed her the American flag, they thanked Sarah for Joseph’s service to his country. As she stood silent as the casket was lowered into the ground, Sarah hugged the flag to her chest. The sound of bagpipes filled the air as the soldiers raised their rifles — the sound of gunfire startling Sarah out of the depressive daze she had been in for days. She hadn’t been eating or sleeping well; her dreams were filled with nightmares as she watched her beloved husband die over and over again.

Nothing would ever be the same, and as the last shot of the rifle echoed throughout the grey cloudy morning, Sarah crumpled in pain and despair. Soldiers quickly rushed to her side and by the afternoon, Sarah was three centimeters dilated. Labor went through the night until a cry sounded throughout her hospital room. The nurse cleaned the baby off before placing him on Sarah’s chest. Looking down at the son, her little miracle, she smiled for the first time since her husband died.

Steven Grant Rogers came in the world on the 4th of July at five pounds six ounces. He was a small boy by any means, but Sarah loved him to pieces. She was sure with a greedily he drank from her breast, he would be big and strong like his father. Money was still hard to come by, but there were plenty of clothes to hem and children to watch. Some days, Sarah got lonely, but she had Steve and for now that was enough, or so she thought.

When Steve was about to turn four, a new neighbor moved into the apartment next to Sarah’s. A widow with four children of her own, Winifred Barnes was a breath of fresh air. Sweet, with a good sense of humor, she had a son around Steve’s age. Often when the two boys were playing, the two women would gossip or play bridge. It had been years since Sarah had a close friend, and after a few weeks of knowing her, Sarah was taken by Winifred’s firecracker personality.  

As they grew closer, Steve started to get sick as Sarah started to go through some hard times. With the Great Depression, people couldn’t afford to get their clothes hemmed anymore. Jobs were hard to come by, and money was becoming scare. Steve’s health began getting worse, and the doctor’s bills seemed to grow. No one could agree what malady was causing Steve’s asthma and other problems. He wasn’t at the weight he was supposed to be at for a five-year-old, nor the height. The doctors just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, leaving Sarah worried and penniless. Going to from doctor to doctor had been costly, and she was on the verge of losing her apartment. The medicine Steve was prescribed for his asthma was barely covered by the stipend she received after Joseph’s death. Yet she couldn’t regret what she had done. Sarah would do just about anything to make sure her Steve was healthy and safe.

Unable to make ends meet,  Sarah was given an eviction notice by the landlord.  Sarah and Steve had to be out of their apartment by the end of the month, or he would be calling the police. With no one to turn to, she was about to be out on the streets, until Winifred came up with an idea. If they pooled their earnings together, they could afford a small house in the nicer part of Brooklyn. Winifred had received a large inheritance when her parents had died, and although Sarah wasn’t too keen on the idea, she knew she had no other choice.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sarah asked.

“For the six thousandth time, yes. What kind of friend would I be if I let you live on the street? You and Steve need a roof over your heads. Please Sarah, think of Steve.”

Logically, Sarah knew that Winifred was right;  Steve wouldn’t be able to withstand the cold. She had no other choice but to take Winifred up on her offer. Still, a part of her was hesitant to move in with Winifred. Times were starting to change, and although Boston Marriages seemed to be in style, she heard the whispers. Yet, there was another part of her that was intrigued by the rumors and stories she heard in passing. She couldn't deny the way her heart jumped every time she saw Winifred.

The first time she noticed the butterflies in her stomach was when the children were asleep and the two  women had decided to indulge in some moonshine. After a couple of drinks, they were three sheets to the wind as they talked and giggled into the night. It was an innocent caress of Winifred’s hand against hers that cause her heart to pound and her face to flush. Sarah waved them off as some kind of fluke until the next morning when Sarah woke up the next morning to Winifred’s arms wrapped around her.

Drunk and unable to go anywhere past Sarah’s bedroom, they had fallen asleep on her bed fully clothed. Being wrapped around someone for the first time since Joseph death felt good. Sarah, however, never mentioned those feelings to her best friend. Instead, she kept them to herself — knowing that she could never act on such feelings. Especially since now they would be living together. She was quite sure that even if she knew what to do with this treasonous thought, Winifred surely couldn’t possibly feel the same way, or so she thought.

When they had finally found a house that would accommodate a family of six, Steve was seven and Bucky was about to turn eight. The two boys were as thick as thieves, and when they weren’t playing together, they were taking Winifred’s three little girls to the park. That meant that Sarah and Winifred were often in the house alone. At first it was awkward getting used to living with someone who wasn’t her husband or son, but over time, the two found their footing as a unit. When Winifred had her hands full, Sarah helped out with the girls, and when Steve had a bad night, Winifred stayed up with her friend all night as she stayed by her son’s side.

The life she had imagined with Joseph was nothing compared to what life was like with Winifred.

Their life didn't have the farm and goats Sarah and Joseph dreamed, but it did have happiness and laughter. Yet, Sarah could feel that something fundamental had shifted between them. When the children were fast asleep, the two women would go out on the porch and sit on the swing that the previous owners had placed there. As they looked up at the night sky, a soft hand clasped Sarah’s. Glancing over, she saw Winifred smiling at her with a slight red blush on her face. No words were said as Sarah pushed up the swing with her feet. Rocking back and forth, the two held hands as they continued to look at the night sky. Sarah didn’t know what this was, nor could she put a name to it, but whatever it was, it felt nice.

As summer turned into fall, the children went back to school and Sarah began taking morning shifts at the hospital again. Most days when she came back, she found lunch or dinner waiting for her as the children did their homework. Other days, Winifred went to choir practice as Sarah made sure the kids were fed and tucked in. They had a routine, but never talk about that night on the porch. They still looked at the stars together, but their hands remained in their laps. It seemed taboo to even mention, and Sarah couldn’t help thinking she had been mistaken about Winifred’s intentions. Her fears were confirmed by a new face at the dinner table.

His name was Peter, and he was from Winifred’s church. He was big, burly and good with kids. He seemed like a decent guy, and it looked like wedding bells were inevitable. Winifred, after all, had no obligations when it came to Sarah, but she couldn’t help but feel hurt. Instead of it being the six of them, it looked like she and Steve would have to move out soon as Winifred went on with her life.

It looked like that Sarah would have to move on as well. Unfortunately, she still had thoughts about herself and Winifred, but lately her dreams had become more intimate. Sometimes they were of her kissing Winifred or caressing her. Those were days Sarah immediately went to confession, but lately she hadn’t been going. Instead she had been indulging in her fantasies as she brought herself to completion. The problem was those fantasies would never become a reality.

When Peter started coming to dinner every night, Sarah decided to pack a couple of bags just to be ready for the day that he proposed to Winifred. Then one day, Sarah came home early and heard noises coming from Winifred’s bedroom. Fearing the worst, she grabbed a bat and charged in without thinking. On the bed, she found Winifred naked with fingers plunging in and out of her opening. With a scream, she came with Sarah’s name on her lips.

“We have to talk,” Sarah said before stalking out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.

Once Winifred was dressed, she sat across from Sarah at the kitchen table. Embarrassed she looked at her best friend and said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly? I’m the one who walked in on you,” Sarah said, letting go of the anger she was feeling.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“I heard moaning, and I thought you were in danger. I should have knocked first,” Sarah admitted, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“I should have been honest in the first place. I know that it’s wrong, and I shouldn’t feel this way about you, but I love you.”

“I thought it was just me. I love you too, Winifred. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I just didn’t realize it until the day we go drunk together,” she said, trying to calm the fear she saw in Winifred’s eyes.

“I don't know if I can do this. What will the world think — what would the church think?”

“Fuck them Winifred, we love each other and that’s all that matters. I don't care what anyone thinks,” Sarah said angrily. “I know you love going to church and singing in the choir, but what we do together is none of their business. You can still go if you want to, but as for me, I love you more than the church,  You’re what’s important to me.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, a thousand times yes, but first you have to break it off with Peter. He’s a nice guy, and he’ll be hurt, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“There was never a me and Peter. He was just a friend. Besides he’s besotted with Father Marcus. They had been seeing each other secretly, and I needed someone I could talk to who understood where I was coming from. You’re the one I want, and that scares me,” Winifred said honestly.

“I’m scared, too, but we’ll take one day at a time. I love you, but that doesn’t mean we have to rush things. I’ve only been with Joseph, and I’m not ready for that step just quite yet.”

“I’m not either. Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Leaning over, Winifred kissed Sarah gently. It was so different from the couple of kisses she shared with Joseph. Instead of a thick beard scratching against her sensitive skin, there was only the soft smooth skin and the scent of Winifred’s sweet rose perfume. Heart beating wildly, Sarah felt herself starting to get wet as she opened her mouth to invited her best friend’s tongue inside. She wanted more — she needed more, but Sarah pulled back reluctantly. She wasn’t ready for the next step and neither was Winifred.

As the doorknob turned, announcing that the kids were home, Sarah and Winifred went about their chores. The promise of something new brought a smile to their faces. They wouldn’t care what others thought as long as they had each other.

 

**2019**

Steven smiled at the small photo album that Bucky had kept from all those years ago. In it were his moms, Bucky, and their three sisters. Tracing each of their faces, Steve sighed. His mothers hadn’t wanted him or Bucky to go off to war, and in the end they lost both their sons. In the years that they were gone, the two women went on with their lives, only to die in each other’s arms when they were both in their 90s.

As he flipped to another page, a voice asked, “Is that your family?”

“Yes, those are my moms, Sarah and Winifred. Back then there wasn’t equality or gay marriage, but that didn’t matter to them. They were happy.”

“I wish I could have met them,” Scott said, before placing a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips.

Pulling away, Steve smiled and said, “They would have loved you.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
